Across the high plains the sky is bigger than your imagination, the grasses grow wild if allowed, the birds press themselves happily against the wind, and the mowers flash lights as they trim the shoulders of the road. Their sign reads: When the lights flash on the shoulder, move the truck over. We moved our silver Japanese almost truck over several times along our 600 mile jaunt across North Dakota. Even the ubiquitous road construction offered little in the way of obstruction, mostly likely because the republican politicians we saw taking credit for the infrastructure improvements. A few of them were standing on their votes, waving gratuitously as we drove by. But none of that compares to our arrival in Fargo. Wow! Once again, our accommodations are pleasant. In fact, the shower was a 12 out of 10 because of the raining head and the high water pressure. As nice as that felt, it was nothing compared to our dinner at the Blackbird Pizza Parlor in downtown Fargo. We've always felt the pizza we made in our backyard oven was pretty good. Just another life lesson that no matter how good we are, we're all just standing in line. Tonight's pizza was the best we have ever eaten, and it was the dough that separated ours from theirs. I'm still in awe of its lightness and crispness. Not only that, but after dinner we ran across Fargo's Thursday Night Bazaar, a local market filled with roaming Elizabethan characters, aerial acts, food booths, crafts, and artisans of all kinds. Most splendid was the harp quartet playing soothing music in front of an appreciative crowd and some unconcerned children frolicking in front of the stage. One of the most enjoyable things about traveling this great nation is running across surprising joys and everyday miracles. It makes for appreciating that life is good, especially today.
It's good be on the road again. Heading the the U.P. tomorrow.
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